Nit Wit Newz: March 2024

(Nit Wit Newz is an unauthorized, often unreliable, on-line news service designed to keep residents abreast of the  inconsequential, unverified, and trifling events that dramatically shape and inform our everyday lives here at Rogue Valley Manor. )

THE ASPIRANT

The large front door to the Nit Wit Newz Tower on the Rogue Valley Manor campus opened, but no daylight came into the room.  Instead, a very large person stood there filling the open door’s void. He moved towards the receptionist’s desk. He spoke:

(Luther): My name is Luther. I want to apply for a job.
(Ms.Pleasant, receptionist): Oh, I’m sorry, Luther, right now we don’t have any openings, but you are certainly welcome to fill out an application for our files.
(L.): Hmm, the sign at the top of your building says “Nit Wit Newz?” What’s a Nit Wit Newz?
(M.P.): Nit Wit Newz is a column concerning mostly unusual events that occur here at Rogue Valley Manor.  It appears in a monthly on-line publication called The Complement which reaches our residents at RVM.
(L.): Good. I can write.
(M.P.): Oh really, that’s nice to know.  Now, here’s the application form, if you’ll just fill it out at the desk over there, I’ll be sure it gets to our H.R. department.  They do all of our hiring.
(L.): Who runs Nit Wit place?
(M.P.): Our Chief Executive Officer here at Nit Wit Newz is Mr. A. Looney.
(L.): I would like to see him.
(M.P.): Mr. Looney is not here right now, but if he were, I’m sure he’d…

(Through the front door a man enters)

(A.L.); Good morning, Ms. Pleasant.
(M.P.): Oh, Mr. Looney, good morning, we were just talking about you…
(L.): You, A. Looney?
(A.L): Yes, I’m A. Looney,
(L.): I would like to work here.  I write good.
(A.L.): Wow! Are you sure you wouldn’t rather work for the Trail Blazers?  Just how tall are you, anyway?
(L.): Seven feet, four and a half inches. I don’t like basketball.
(A.L.): Oh, well that could be a problem.  Ms. Pleasant, would you hold my calls for a few minutes. I’d like to meet with…what was your name?
(L.): Luther.
(A.L.): with Mr. Luther.
(L.): No mister, just Luther.
(A.L.): I’m Sorry. So, Luther follow me.

(The two enter Looney’s office)

(A.L): Have a seat.
(L.): Too small.  I need that big one behind the desk.
(A.L.): Yeah, I guess you do.  Now tell me, what brings you to Nit Wit Newz?
(L.): I need a job.  I write good.  Nit Wit Newz writes stuff. I don’t speak so good, but write good.
(A.L.): That’s unusual, how did that happen?
(L.): When they were putting me together. they…
(A.L.): Hold it.  When they were putting you together?  What does that mean? Are you a robot or something?
(L.): Here, read this—

(Luther hands Looney a printed card, it reads:)

To Whom It Might Concern:  Luther was a part of our first generation of ‘bots that our small, Medford garage start-up was putting together by implanting A.I. into  human-like bodies. Our circuitry was quite primitive at the time—it was bulky and unwieldy. To accommodate that cumbersome software, we had to make his body quite large to house it. We were fairly far along with Luther’s development when our bank financing was unexpectedly cut off. We had to abandon our project as well as our business.  Sadly, Luther was left as a not completely formed A.I. robot. We were able to install a fully functional ChatGPT  program in Luther so he has excellent writing capacities, but the speech program, ChatterGPT, was only partially completed when we had to halt production.  Given the right conditions, however, Luther should be able to handle certain types of jobs and function in society living a near-normal robotic life.

(A.L.): How interesting.  Have you had any job experience since then?
(L.): Self-employed. Sold shoe laces down on Barnett and gave rides to kids on my pet goat for a dime.
(A.L.): Did that prove successful?
(L.): No. Goat died. Miss him. Revenue stream dried up.
(A.L.): How sad.  And after that?
(L.): Came up hill. Got job at Manor.  Worked in Dining Services.  Job was to input carving station menu on computer. Sat on keyboard.  Computer froze.  Nobody could fix computer. Stuck on carved turkey every night—for weeks. Residents unhappy. Got transferred to Wellness Department.  Introduced new sport—water pickle ball.  Sport failed. Powerful water volleyball league wouldn’t share pool time. Two strikes, I’m out.  Leaving Manor today, saw your sign on roof. “Newz” misspelled.  Figured outfit needs help.  I write good. I spell good, too.
(A.L.): Well, we misspelled “news” on purpose.  We thought it would tell readers that they were about to read something funny, you know, humorous.
(L.): Yes, I know humorous. I can write like Swift, Twain, Oscar Wilde, Dorothy Parker, Richard Pryor, Steve Martin. All in my data base.
(A.L): No, no.  Our stuff is not that clever or sophisticated. We’re sillier, more nonsensical. We’re…
(L.): You mean like, unfunny humor?
(A.L.): Well, I guess you could call it…
(L.): Hmm, not sure would work for me. Would have to do deep internal search for dumb humor. Maybe need new data base.  Might take a long, long time.
(A.L.): Well look Luther, we don’t have any openings for reporters right now, but if you were interested, we could really use an intern around here that could do menial jobs and at the same time, you could learn how we put together Nit Wit Newz. Maybe sometime later you could write for us. The Oregon minimum wage is $14.20 per hour.  Can you live on that?
(L.): Better than selling shoe laces.  Need place to live.  Big building here.  Have room for me?
(A.L.): Gosh, all of our offices are occupied, but….
(L.): Saw small door in hall next to yours.  Maybe fine for me.
(A.L.): No, no, that’s a broom closet.  Way too small for a guy your size.
(L.): Does it have outlet. Need night-time re-charge.
(A.L.): Yeah, I’m quite sure it does, but you can’t squeeze a bed in…
(L.): Sleep upright. Space should be fine.
(A.L.): Well, I suppose if we take out that push broom, the mop, the pail, and…
(L.): No, no, leave them.  Since goat died, don’t like to sleep alone.
(A.L.): Oh sure, sure, I understand.
(L.): Have question. How many $14.20s need to buy new goat?

—A. Looney